Burnt
by Sammy1997
Summary: She'd been left and she burned. Will he return? E/O.


Burnt

**This is strictly a one-shot. The end of **_**Scorched Earth **_**made me cry. And when I cry, I have to write. So I did. This is what came to my mind. This takes place a few weeks after Elliot turns in his papers.**

**Xoxoxoxoxoxox**

The door slammed open and Olivia nearly tripped over herself to get inside. Headlights illuminated her tear-stricken face for a moment before leaving her in darkness. She tossed her keys onto the counter and shrugged out of her jacket as she stumbled to the bedroom. She leaned against the door frame and kicked off her shoes. Her bare feet slapped against the wooden floor as she threw herself on the bed, not bothering to change out of her stiff work clothing.

Olivia wiped at her cheeks, madly trying to rid of the tears. She'd cried too much for him. Just the thought of his absence reawakened her tear glands. The one man she'd trusted for _twelve years_ had to be the one to let her down.

Now, she spent her time either at work, or at a bar. The burn of alcohol had become a familiar and comforting distraction. It interfered with her thoughts, cutting away at them until they no longer existed. She'd force herself to overthink about Elliot during these sessions. He'd become the main source of pain and it was quite obvious.

Almost every time she'd walk into the precinct, Fin would shoot her a worried glance, Munch would try to avoid her gaze, Rollins would say a quiet greeting and Amaro would ignore her. When Cragen would give her the first slip of paper for the day, he'd ask her if she was okay. She'd muster up a smile and mutter 'I'm fine'. At first conclusion, she wondered if they could smell alcohol on her. The second time she wondered if it was the faded tear tracks that had embedded themselves into her skin overnight. The third was a combination of the two.

She knew it wasn't healthy. With so many years as a cop under her belt, _she knew that._ She knew better than to do that, honestly. But what else was there? She wouldn't join therapy, not again. She wouldn't talk to someone close, because that person was currently the problem. There was nowhere to turn. Instead of dealing with it and forcing herself to move on, she drank her problems away.

She was burned, and there was no one to take care of her.

Xoxoxoxoxoxox

The thick and murky pounding in her head made her moan in discomfort. She'd gotten used to it, but that didn't mean she was completely immune. The bright daylight that shone through the window made her squint, and she automatically put her hand up as a shield.

"Ugh….stupid sun…" she muttered, scooting to the edge of the bed and sitting up.

She stood slowly, testing her coordination this early in the morning with a hangover. Once steady, she made her way to the washroom. As she walked, she stretched, testing out her muscles. Sleeping in her work clothes had made her stiff.

After a quick shower and a follow-up of her morning routine, she pulled on appropriate work attire and popped a mint in her mouth to get rid of any remaining scent of what she'd been drinking the night before. Olivia made her bed, grabbed her gun, badge and keys, and left.

Outside her apartment, a storm was brewing. Wild winds clawed at people, pushing them around. Women gripped the hands of their children tightly, as if afraid they'd fly away. Cars honked impatiently, some already late for work. She checked her watch. 7:14. She had sixteen minutes to spare.

Olivia looked to both sides of the street to see if she could manage to spot an empty cab. She waved her hand frantically at one vehicle and let out a sigh of relief when he finally pulled up in front of her. She'd once had to wave for half an hour to catch a cab.

She entered the car and told the cabbie the directions. As he drove, she looked out , gazing at the happy families. She tried her best not to dwell much on it, but it became increasingly more difficult with fewer distractions. In no time at all, she arrived at the precinct. Plastering a smile on her face, she paid the cabbie and exited the vehicle, not sure if she was ready to face the day in front of her.

She passed the front desk and made her way to the elevator- where Munch and Fin were exiting.

"Hey, Liv," Munch said, noting how she winced. He'd forgotten it was Elliot who had first used the nickname.

"Hey," she croaked, and then cleared her throat.

"You okay, Liv?" Fin asked, hearing the tone of her voice.

"Yeah, fine, probably just a cold," she said, lifting up a corner of her mouth and hoping it didn't look fake.

Fin nodded and accepted her answer without question. She was relieved. They said their goodbyes- Cragen had already assigned them a case.

The elevator stopped on her floor and she exited quickly. Entering the bullpen, she noticed how there was an empty box on top of Elliot's desk, half-full with paperwork and pens. She walked by Detective Amaro and shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it over her chair. Cragen chooses that moment to call her into his office.

"Liv," he greets, "I need you to pack up Elliot's desk."

"But Captain, he could still come back."

"He's not coming back-he's already put his papers in."

She was shell-shocked for a moment, her façade crumbling. She nodded numbly before turning and leaving his office. She went into an empty interrogation room and locked the door behind her, flipping off the lights.

She turned and cried into her hands, sliding to the ground. She rocked back and forth, repeating '_he's not coming back'_ over and over in her head.

It changed nothing; she doesn't expect it to.

Xoxoxoxoxoxox

Half an hour later, she exited, wiping at her eyes and looking forward, pretending as if they're not red. She got to his desk and paused. _He _should've been here, unpacking and saying it was all a mistake. She moved and dumped all of his paperwork into the box, trying not to look at his handwriting, for it would've only tear another hole in her broken heart. She picked up a picture frame, smoothing her hand over the glass before putting in the box, as well.

When the box was full, she carried it into Cragen's office and set it next to his desk. She knew she wouldn't be able to bear it if she walked by it all day.

When she returned to her desk, Amaro shot her a confused glance. She could guess why- he'd never seen her show any other emotion than dislike. She ignored him briskly and turned to finish another report on her latest case. It had been difficult. She missed Elliot every step of the way.

The hours passed. Before she knew it, it was almost eight and Cragen was shutting off his office light and closing the door behind him. He came over to her.

"You should get some rest," he said, weariness in his tone.

She moved to shake her head but Cragen took the piece of paper from her hands and set it down in a pile. He took one hand in his and pulled her up, put her jacket on her shoulders, and walked her down to the elevators. He pushed her in one.

"Go home, Liv."

He turned around to go turn off the lights still on.

She obeyed his request, but stopped at a liquor store first, purchasing some tequila.

Xoxoxoxoxoxox

Olivia felt odd. Someone might have said it was the tequila in her system, but she knew better. She had this weird feeling.

As she'd stumbled up the steps and into her apartment building, her vision blurs in and out repeatedly. It's a miracle she managed to make it to the front door. She pulled out her keys and pushed them into her lock, not noticing how her door was already unlocked.

The door opened and she stepped inside, sweeping the room with her eyes and slamming the door behind her.

A moment passed. She was stunned into silence.

Elliot sat on her couch, turning to face her. When he saw the bottle in her hands, he stood and made his way toward her, slowly.

She made a dash towards her room, but she was too intoxicated, too _drunk,_ to make it with her lazy footing. Before she even took her third step, she was stumbling and his arms went around her waist to steady her. She twisted and writhed against him, but he only held her tighter to prevent her from doing any harm to herself. Tears ran down her cheeks.

When he tried to take the tequila bottle from her, she held it away from him and took a long gulp. The tequila slid down her throat with ease and left a bitter taste in her mouth. When he grabbed it and tugged, she pulled against him with ferocity and it slipped from her hands. It shattered into tiny glass splinters against her floor. She glanced at the glass, looking devastated.

She looked at him.

"No, Liv, no. How could you do this to yourself?" he whispered.

She shrugged and struggled, still twisting and trying to make him let her go.

He tried to get her to go to bed, but she refused. Instead, she only tried to get out of his arms, mumbling about vodka in the freezer. He put her on the couch gently, his hands on either side of her.

"If I let you go, will you promise to stay on the couch?" he asked.

She nodded placatingly.

The moment he had lifted his arms, she'd pushed past him. He lifted her up before she could step on the tiny shards of glass, having disposed of her shoes at the door.

"Let me go!" she exclaimed, with anger that shocked him.

She kicked against him and his grip nearly slipped. He barely managed to keep her from stepping on the glass. He went into her room and deposited her on the bed, pulling the covers over her. She tried to pull them off, but he wouldn't let her. She punched him and beat against his chest and arms, trying valiantly to free herself.

"You're not real," she repeated once the blows stopped.

He waited until her eyes began to droop, and then moved away from her to clean the glass in the hallway and dispose of the vodka bottle in the freezer.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

When she woke up in the morning, she did not wonder why there were two Advil on her bedside table with a bottle of water. She merely accepted it and went to brush her teeth.

She took a shower, washing the smell of tequila from herself, before throwing on a button-down and slacks. She paused when she heard a familiar voice.

"Yeah, Cap, she's not going in today. She's taking a sick day. Yeah, thanks. Yup. I'll tell her. Bye."

Elliot turned to go wake her, but when he saw she was staring at him, he faltered and took a step backward.

"Liv…are you okay?"

She almost looked frightened. "…El?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he said, and stepped toward her.

She shook. Tremors shot through her body. He embraced her and she ended up pulling him into a hug, as well. She wrapped her arms around his and pressed herself against him.

"I missed you…_so much…_how could you do that to me?"

"I'm so sorry, baby. So, so sorry."

She pulled back and slapped him once, hard, and then returned to the embrace. He closed his eyes.

"I deserved that."

She nodded into his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a long time.


End file.
